


Ice Queen

by vogue91



Category: Original Work
Genre: Character Death, Clubbing, Cruelty, F/M, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Stockholm, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 10:29:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16638221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vogue91/pseuds/vogue91
Summary: “Ethel... you know I care about you, don’t you?”“Of course I do. You’ve been professing your affection toward me since we’ve first met.”“And you also know you’re beautiful.”





	Ice Queen

Winter mornings in Stockholm were the most beautiful thing in the world.

The scarcity of light during that time of the year made those hours a grace allowed to the Swedish people.

Ethel Sjoberg had gotten up early that day. She had gone to Sergelstorg for a coffee, she was in no rush. It was Sunday morning, the 21st of December. Christmas was close and, free from school, she felt as relaxed as ever.

She spent her days wandering throughout the city, she liked to pretend she was a tourist.

She left her car close to the sea and then she walked to the old city, buying the most useless stuff.

Not that day.

The night before, Christer had called her and they had agreed to meet at the square. She had felt torn from her blissed solitude.

She didn’t fit her age. And after all, fitting was something she had always found illusory. There was no one who could truly establish what was fitting and what wasn’t.

Ethel looked pretty enough. She wasn’t too tall, thin, her hair ash gold and her eyes as clear as ice. And people usually found her pretty amusing as well.

But lately, she hadn't felt like meeting anyone, she didn’t want to bond. She was a hermit living among others, and Christer had never accepted that.

He was her friend and, as such, he wanted to see her, wanted to spend his time with her. He wanted to break through that wall she had built to surround herself.

When she saw him come from afar, anyway, she couldn’t help smiling.

He was tall, much more than her. His hair were a light brown, his eyes green. They were the most alive thing she had ever seen.

“Hi, _tathi._ ”

She kept smiling to him. His mother was Finnish, and he often slipped into the other Scandinavian language. Calling her ‘star’, anyway, had become a habit of his.

And she liked it.

She saw his eyes when they fixated on her. He was completely captivated. She had always pretended not to notice, for both of their sakes. He could keep dreaming, she could keep living.

“Good morning, Chris.” she replied with the correct dose of coldness, which the boy ignored hugging her.

“Don’t be silly. I haven’t seen you in a week! What have you been up to?” he asked.

She shrugged.

“I've been around. If you know how to live it, Stockholm is the most beautiful city in Europe.” she told him.

“Alone?” he asked, weirded out.

“When you’re with someone, you rarely get time to look around. You go back home and the only thing you’ve seen is the road in front of you. It’s something I hate.”

He kept quiet for a while.

“You’re so weird, you know that?”

“It’s not that I'm weird. Is that you are all so _shallow_.” she explained, haughty.

“Fine, Emily Dickinson. But today you’re all mine, aren't you?” he said. She said.

“Of course. You’ve basically threatened me last night.”

They started walking. He took her hand, and she decided to let him. There was no reason why she should’ve deprived him of that momentary joy, of that delusion.

They walked for a long while, until she stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.

“I'm tired.” she informed him, and Christer frowned.

“I suppose that during your solitary mornings you walk much more than this.” he pointed out.

“I told you, that has got nothing to do with this. Those days I'm not even Ethel Sjoberg, and I can be whoever I want. And I can do whatever I please, even decide to walk for kilometres and kilometres. Today you’ve asked for my presence, and the real me now is tired.”

Christer sighed. He barely followed the girl’s reasoning, but he was used to that and he knew that contradicting her was pointless. Anyway, he had no intention to upset her. Not on that day.

“Fine. Want a cappuccino from Starbucks?” he asked, and she smiled and nodded.

They walked inside the café, feeling incredibly cold; Ethel looked around, assessing the situation, checking how many people had turned when she had walked in.

_(The cold vanity rejoiced.)_

“Will you go taking the coffee? I’ll find a seat.” she said, and he nodded.

She found an open table, close to two guys. They must’ve been twenty or so. She smiled while walking closer to them, but as soon as she sat down her eyes were stone cold again. She pulled a cigarette out, turning toward the closest of the two of them.

“Do you have a lighter?” she asked, the cigarette between her lips. The man looked at her for a moment, then he smiled.

“Of course.” he replied, panting a little as if he had just started running.

And Ethel knew, she was the run.

She took a drag and thanked him with a smile, then she leant against the wall and started looking at the other patrons. When she didn’t spot anything interesting, she actually felt glad to see Christer come back with her coffee.

“Here.” he said, handing her the cup and sitting down in front of her.

“What do I owe you?” the girl asked, on purpose. Christer waved his hand.

“I told you it was my treat.”

She took another drag off the cigarette.

“I know.” she replied. The boy in front of her frowned, but he didn’t answer.

_(The cold vanity rejoiced.)_

They didn’t talk for a while. They were both absorbed, intent drinking their coffees; in the end though, he decided to start the discussion which had led him to ask her out that morning.

“Ethel... I need to talk to you.” he said. She looked bothered, but tried not to show it too much.

“About?” she asked, distracted. He sighed. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy.

“Us.”

She raised her eyes, a smirk on her face.

“Us, Christer? Since when there’s an ‘us’?” she ironized. He pretended not to notice her tone.

“Ethel... you know I care about you, don’t you?” he asked.

“Of course I do. You’ve been professing your affection toward me since we’ve first met.” she replied, sour.

“And you also know you’re beautiful.” he murmured. That wasn’t a question, and the way he had said that made a sharp smile appear on Ethel’s face.

_(The cold vanity rejoiced.)_

“Let’s just say you’re not the first one to point that out.” she said, sugared.

“Eth... what I'm trying to say is...”

“I know what you’re trying to say.” she interrupted him, dry. She mellowed down less than a moment later. “Want to go out tonight?” she asked, and he got floored.

“Ethel, I...” he tried to take back the reins, but she didn’t let him finish.

“Yes or no?”

Christer caved.

“Whatever. What did you have in mind?”

She smiled, victorious.

“I want to go drink something. I really want to relax.”

He chuckled, shaking his head.

“And who’s going to drive you back home?” he asked, sarcastic.

“I can drive myself. You know I'm always in control.”

The tone she had used creeped him out a little, but he drove the feeling away.

Despite the way this looked like a failure, he was hopeful. The fact that she had asked him out that night seemed to be a good thing, and he was going to be able to talk to her, tell her what he had to, hoping that she was going to let him.

He had a chance to walk out of her ice cold prison.

They left, and once they walked out they realized the wind had gotten colder; she shivered in her coat, while the boy seemed to barely notice the cold.

“It’s almost lunch time.” he said. “Want to grab something to eat?”

She glared at him, as if he had gone mad.

“We’ve spent the morning together and I’ll be seeing you tonight. Let’s not overdo it.” she scolded him, shutting him up.

They headed back to her car, and they didn’t talk again until they reached Christer’s house in Solna. Ethel pulled over in front of it and turned to look at him, smirking.

“Do I have to come get you tonight?” she asked, remarking the fact that he didn’t drive. The boy snorted.

“Yes, please. I’ll get my licence one day, you’ll see.” he replied, smiling.

“Of course. We’re going to have a party that day.” she told him, sarcastic.

Christer leant toward her and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. Ethel kept perfectly still, annoyed.

“ _Hei Eth... tänä iltana.*.”_ he said, getting out of the car. Before walking inside he turned around again and smiled.

She smiled too, satisfied.

_(The cold vanity rejoiced.)_

~

 

It took her a while to get ready, that night.

She was looking for perfection, for something to torture Christer enough, and by the length of her skirt she decided she was going to succeed.

She drove back to his place and texted him, then she got off the car and leant against it, posed.

As soon as he saw her, Christer froze.

She smiled, devilishly, watching him get nervous. He walked toward her slowly, until he was only a few centimetres from her.

“You look stunning.” he murmured.

_(The cold vanity rejoiced.)_

“I’ve heard that before.” she replied, then got back inside the car and started the engine.

“Where are we off to?” he asked.

“A club I’ve been to a few times, in Vasaplan.”

“Don’t think I’ve ever been there.” he informed her, and Ethel smiled, haughty.

“Then it means I’ll bring you there for the first time.”

Once they reached the club she parked the car, and they got off. The air was cold, but Ethel felt warmed up by her excitement. She quivered.

She had a weird feeling about that night, as if something was about to happen. She turned toward Christer, staring at him.

“You look good, dressed like that.” she said, more malicious than kind. He wasn’t wearing anything particular, but the ensemble gave him some elegance which she wouldn’t have really ascribed to him.

“Thanks.” he replied, smiling openly; he was trying to get anything he could, and her comment was definite positive.

Without saying another word, they walked inside the club.

It was blinding. The blue light inside left room for nothing but imagination, and Christer wondered how Ethel moved with so much confidence in that hell of cold colours.

When they sat down, anyway, he smiled to her.

“What’s the link between the old town and... this?” he asked, ironic. He couldn’t see her face perfectly, but he was quite sure she had rolled her eyes.

“Remember the various Ethels I told you about this morning? This is the night version. Anyway, I like this place.” she replied.

“I thought you liked being in control. How can you do that here, if you can’t even see properly?” he went on. He heard a laughter, despite the music’s volume.

“Control evades the eyes, Chris.” was her enigmatic answer.

When a waitress reached them, he let her order, then sighed.

Perhaps letting go a little was going to help, that night.

 

A few hours had gone by, Christer didn’t even know how many. Also, he ignored the number of cocktails he had gulped down, Ethel stirring him on.

He remembered she had drunk a lot too, but she was still lucid, as usual.

He was looking for her around the club, and when he finally spotter her he saw a guy close. He looked older, at least twenty-five years old.

Christer gritted his teeth seeing just how _close_ she was, how her lips were almost on his.

Blinded by the alcohol, the lights and the anger, he walked toward her and grabbed her wrist.

“Chris! Let me go, you’re hurting me!” she yelled. The man close to her looked at him as if he was a roach.

“Is there any problem?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

The girl, in the end, sighed.

“Don’t worry. He’s a friend of mine.” she glared at Christer. “I’ll be right back.”

The two of them walked up the stairs and reached the roof. Ethel thought some fresh air might’ve actually helped.

She walked toward the ledge and leant forward, inebriated by the height and the cold. He put a hand on her shoulder, harsh.

“Who was that?” he asked, his voice too loud, and she noticed he was slurring a little.

“You’re drunk, Christer. Leave me alone.” she replied, angry, which only got him madder.

“I may also be drunk, but I still want an answer: who was that?” he repeated, and she sighed.

“He was a guy. A cute one, also. And you interrupted us.”

Christer closed his eyes briefly.

“Interrupted what?” he took a step back, sucking his lips inside his mouth. “You don’t see it, do you Ethel?” he yelled.

“Lower your voice! What don’t I see?”

“What you do to people. How you sneak inside of them, how you dig into their hearts. And what do you leave behind? Dust, nothing else. You’re beautiful, Ethel, but it’s the coldest and most destructive beauty I’ve ever seen.”

_(The cold vanity rejoiced.)_

She smiled; the description fitted her like a glove, no doubt about that. She knew she should’ve stopped playing with him, but she was attracted like moth to flame. And the flame was all that adoration, that sentiment. Those glances the boy stole from her body, her face. And, Ethel was sure, her soul as well.

But she wasn’t going to bend. Not for him, not for anyone.

“What are you still doing here, then? Go away, if that’s what you want. If I’ve destroyed you, if your heart is ash. But you can't, can you? I keep you here, your eyes can't help caressing me.” she retorted, and her voice was loud too now.

“What are you?” he hissed, and she smirked.

“I'm a human being.” she replied, knowing already he wasn’t going to appreciate that.

He ran toward her, cornering her against the ledge.

“Human being? When have you ever been one?” he asked, close to her face. “You’re a machine. Your mind is made of gears, your eyes are made of crystal. So that no one can read past them, right?”

She pushed him away with all the strength she had, switching their positions.

“You stink of alcohol, Christer. I’d like for this farce to stop now.” she hissed.

He laughed, climbing on the ledge and looking at her from there.

“You think that all other people do is a farce. You’re the only one who can play the great pieces, right? You’re like the women in those plays, you seduce, you conquer and you push a man to do atrocious acts in your name. And then you leave.” he said, his voice close to a snarl. She saw him sway, but she didn’t lose her composure.

“Get down, Christer. It’s dangerous.”

He leant down, enough to be close to her face again.

“ _Sinulla on keiju ja noidan silmät. **_.” he hissed, and she turned up her nose.

“You love this witch, Christer, don’t you ever forget that.” she said, spiteful. He got even closer, brushing his lips on hers. He stayed like that for a few moments, then he pulled away and was back standing up right on the ledge.

“You’re sweet. I was expecting your lips to taste like poison.” he declared with a smile, like a madman.

He turned around. Stockholm, from up there, was wonderful. And, looking at it closely, lethal. Just like her.

“I love you, Ethel.” he murmured.

_(The cold vanity rejoiced.)_

The girl never knew if he had meant to fall down in a dramatic gesture. In that moment he just misstepped and fell.

A split second later, a loud thump echoed in the air.

She closed her eyes, bothered by the screams. She looked down, and the sight of that blood, spilt in her name, mad a smile appear on her face.

She didn’t look long, though. It wasn’t a pleasant sight.

He was her friend. He was dead. He loved her.

A lot of thoughts floated in her mind, but one in particular pressed to surface.

_A man had killed himself in the name of her love._

She went downstairs and walked back to her car. She had clear in her mind Christer’s eyes and his words, which now seemed to blow within the wind alongside his last breath.

She licked her lips, and she actually managed to taste that poison he had gone looking for.

She looked at herself in the rearview mirror, and started the engine.

She had bewitched him. She felt the most powerful and most cruel woman on the whole earth.

Effigy of that, a boy dead on the asphalt, whose name no one was going to remember.

 _(The cold vanity rejoiced, a man had killed himself in the name of her love.)_      

 

 

_*Hey, Eth... see you tonight._

_**You’ve got the face of a fairy and the eyes of a witch._


End file.
